Caretaker
by The-Birds-And-Bees
Summary: Maybe, due to Aerith's influence, the Planet did understand the sacrifices Cloud made to do its will. He just wished it had listened to someone other than Zack when working out how to compensate for it. CxS
1. Chapter 1

_The Planet and Lifestream are constantly given the image of being just as bad as Hojo, thrusting Cloud in and pretty much stating "Oh hai, here's a big bag of fucked up shit, add a couple of bucket loads of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and nao you're ready to go save the world. Have fun!" I wanted to change that. Also, no one really changes much about Cloud's childhood, which is something I felt would be really fun to screw around with. Cloud's still going to get his bag of shit, its pretty much compulsory for Cloud, but with some great incentive and a Planet willing to actually help heal him as well, a nice change for the poor traumatized blond._

_Hopefully, you'll all enjoy. I do particularly love critical reviews, so please, if you feel the need to be insightful and critical to points, go for it._

_**88888**_

_**Angels and demons circle above my head, cleaving through thorns and Milky Ways **_

_**He who does not perceive his calling, does not know true happiness...**_

_**-Inner Universe: Origa**_

Cloud had a personal rule when it came to dreams. The weirder it was, the more likely it was true, or some sort of premonition from the Planet.

"3.5 inches professor; she's peaking." This dream certainly categorised under the heading of FUBAR. He was in a lab, one of the ones he'd discovered between the attacks headed by Kadaj and affair with Deepground, even further underneath the Shinra mansion, to be more accurate. However, gone were the small signs of neglect and slow decay from before; the metal walls were clean and gleaming, the lights remained steady and bright, instead of dull and flickering, and the monsters that had broken out of cages throughout the facility, breed and continued to reside there were replaced by lab assistants and the worst monster to ever plague the world.

"Very good." Hojo's voice and appearance were still as oily and bluntly horrifying as Cloud remembered, with less creases in his forehead. He looked pleased and almost excited, two qualities that were never a good sign in the insane scientist. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the lab assistants glance at him with a look of pure disgust. Some things never changed, and Hojo hadn't lost...obviously gained? the ability to make others look at him with both absolute disgust and absolute fear.

Instead of sending Cloud into a mindless destructive being of anger and old memories, he proved Cloud's theories that this was not just a dream of his mind's invention. The first indicator had been the fact that his cognitive process seemed on par, functioning whilst he was supposed to be asleep, and allowing him to thoughtfully process his surroundings instead of being lead through his own actions as if he merely had a third person perspective within first person actions.

The third indication that this dream was, indeed, not just a dream was the screaming woman upon the table. He had met her only once; insane with grief and despair, a mere fragment of what was once a beautiful, strong woman, Vincent had explained to him sorrowfully. Cloud would have thought Lucrecia Crescent was in the midst of her death throes had it not been for the fact that the blood that covered most of her legs and the bottom half of the table was from a gaping hole between said thighs. She was in the final stages of giving birth and as far as Cloud knew, had only one child derive from her.

"Professor, she needs to be rolled upon her side now," The lab assistant who had looked at Hojo with such disgust stated this calmly, expression blank. "The position she is currently in, whilst beneficial scientifically, may cause problems for her and the child." Child had obviously been the magic word, since Hojo had seemed ready to shoot the young man in the head till that point. Watching the man roll Lucrecia onto her side, Cloud figured pensively that the soon to be mother had either opted to look this up herself, or had the pity and admiration of the lab assistant currently helping her. Tifa, he recalled, almost breaking into a smile, had looked it up herself. He hadn't been sure what was more hilarious; Tifa standing in the middle of her living room swearing to all Hellenistic gods that when this was over, Rude's dick was coming off, or the expression on Rude's face for the next five days afterwards.

And then the screaming started, and Cloud was abruptly reminded as to why he hadn't stayed out the entire birth of his godson. Aside from the typical disturbing fashion that births seemed to have, the tortured screaming triggered other, far nastier images; Dyne's birth had passed with Cloud holding Tsuruji with one hand and gripping the bar stool as both an anchor to reality and a restraint against destroying the bar with the other. The fact that Hojo was in the room made the situation worse, if that was even possible, so Cloud did the only thing that seemed possible in this situation. He used his thoughts to drown out the sights and sounds of his surroundings.

The first thing that needed personal introspection was the question of why, exactly, he had the misfortune to be here. The question of who had brought him here was quite obvious; the Planet, the Life-stream, or Aerith; one or all of the three, since all three had an annoying habit of meddling with his day to day affairs. Cloud would have felt guilty for thinking ill of Aerith, except she didn't seem to get the fact that being dead was generally an indication that your time and influence over the living world had ended. The Planet and the Life-stream were worse, usually attempting to get him to do something for the mere fact of saving the planet and adding several more centuries worth of trauma to his daily life.

But the why...the why was confusing. It could be an indication of Sephiroth's return, but then why show his birth? If Cloud wasn't entirely wrong about the situation, in minutes he would be confronted with the most vulnerable form of the man who had inspired both great awe and great fear. Not a good indication of a future threat. Cloud sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Maybe he needed to wait; as the event unfolded, perhaps it would provide a hint of what its purpose was.

Which was how he was reminded of yet another thing to hate about labor; the waiting. There was a clock on the wall and Cloud watched it tick for three quarters of an hour before stepping over to Hojo and pantomimed strangling the putrid man's neck, since fate was laughing at him and refused to allow him to strangle the object of his deepest loathing. He tried poking the lab assistants, just to see them jump, but it appeared that they didn't feel anything he did, nor the effects of it.

He could touch objects, however, a revelation brought upon by a half hearted swipe at an empty test tube abandoned on one of the side benches. it had flown off and shattered on impact with the floor, resulting in the closest lab assistant, who had been scrawling down notes since Cloud had appeared, being sent out of the room in shame.

And then Cloud resumed watching the clock. Planet, was childbirth boring.

"A head!" The exclamation brought Cloud out of his doze, and he looked up to see Hojo shove the man aside, obscuring the rest of the proceedings from view as a tense silence fell, only punctuated by Lucrecia's labored puffs and gasps of pain. Maybe that's why they called it labor. Cloud's lips quirked at the thought.

"Finally." Hojo's voiced was filled with greedy satisfaction; Sephiroth had joined the world. Anticipation and trepidation coiled in Cloud's stomach like snake made of lead. "A boy, as expected. The J cells have done wonders on him already; he looked several weeks old, not the usual blob of red and purple wrinkles that most human newborns are. Get me the scissors!"

There was a flurry of activity, but when it settled Lucrecia was propped up again, holding her child. God in the making he may be, but apparently Hojo's distaste for small children was greater than his sense of achievement, otherwise Cloud was sure no one else would been allowed to touch the genetically altered newborn for several days. So Lucrecia got to hold her child for the first, and quite possibly final, time. It wasn't difficult to see the heartache in her eyes. From what he knew, Lucrecia had loved Vincent, and was likely still mourning his death at this point. Sephiroth still had a large possibility of being Vincent's child in Cloud's mind, since he was as likely to take Hojo's word for anything as the truth as he was likely to melt down Tsuguri. If he was indeed the child of the ex-Turk, it would make it even worse.

Still, from the moment he had been conceived Sephiroth had been enlisted as a test subject, and to anyone finally realizing the depth of human emotion between mother and child, the realization that your child will live out a torturous existence due to your actions would be a hard thing. He pitied her, knowing that this regret for both Vincent and Sephiroth would slowly drive her to abandoning life and attempting to die far from society. Even in death, she would fail.

Finally getting a look at Sephiroth, Cloud was surprised by how...normal he looked. Several weeks older than he was supposed to, yes, but still...normal. He was silent, staring over at Hojo as if assessing the man who had been the first thing he'd seen since coming into the world. A small tuft of silver had poked through at the very top of his head, and his eyes were the same cat like green Cloud had come to expect, with one difference. Cloud had never forgotten- how could he?- that the man who had almost destroyed the world had once been a sane, uncontrolled being, but he had forgotten how his eyes had looked when they had retained normal pupils.

It was a stark reminder that what he saw before him wasn't the newly formed puppet of Jenova, but the strong, aloof man who would capture the hearts of many people within the nation and bring the rule of SOLDIER to fruitation. And it was this baby who would feel firsthand the experiments that Cloud had been on the receiving end of long after the baby had grown, this creation of sexual activity and genetic manipulation who would be used and eventually abandoned by his mother, cut off from love and emotion, till one day the call of an alien life form pretending to be his mother would drive him to insanity. Sephiroth, the poweful god-like being who, out of all of them, deserved to be pitied and mourned the most, because out of all of them, he was the one who had been the most cruelly used.

"I'm sorry, Sephiroth." He whispered. Inquisitive eyes turned to him, far older than any child's should ever be, and Cloud's heart leapt into his throat at the thought that maybe, Sephiroth could see and hear him.

He bolted upright in his bed, heart still pounding painfully as he attempted to cam his erratic breathing. The moon was low enough to cast light through his window, which meant it was maybe... 4:30. His walls were plain, his bedspread a simple blue that Denzel had picked out for him, and the only electronic devices within his sleeping confines were his alarm clock and his phone; electrical equipment, whilst better for the Planet, had an annoying habit of emitting a buzzing noise that was ten times worse on his mako heightened hearing. He took this time to view him room for the simple fact of reminding himself that he was indeed somewhere familiar and considerably safe. An apartment not too far from Seventh Heaven; a simplistic two bedroom place, but more than big enough for both Denzel and himself.

It had, to begin with, been Tifa's idea. Denzel's idol worship of Cloud had eventually changed into one of a boy seeking a role model, and as he had come closer and closer to becoming a teen it had become apparent that he needed that father figure much more than he needed Tifa's mothering. The ice on the cake had been Tifa's developing relationship with Rude, and Cloud had opted to find a place he could share with the boy, instead of letting Rude put a bullet through his skull or allow him to lace Rude's evening beer with some fast acting neurotoxin.

Surprisingly, it had actually proved to be good for both Cloud and Denzel. The 28 year old had quickly learned to enjoy being a parental figure, and proved to be a fair and capable guardian, not that he'd admit to either. Denzel, in turn, had learned to control himself a bit better, judging the situation before running into danger as he had been known to do before. He was also a lot better at taking care of Cloud than Cloud himself was; since they had tentatively begun to live in the same space, Denzel had kept a hawk's eye on every meal Cloud figured it was Tifa's influence.

Giving up on the idea of sleep, Cloud slipped out of bed and in the living room. Denzel had fallen asleep in front of the TV again; the screen was currently flashing images of a burger being made- the newest piece of garbage from one fast food joint or another, which, had he been conscious, Denzel would have muttered at with a dark glare. For a fourteen year old, he had a very derisive view of greasy food; another thing heavily influenced by Tifa. no doubt. Still, he had a mean touch in the kitchen, which made scheduled eating easier on Cloud when he was at home.

Home. Cloud frowned as he grabbed a blanket off the side of the lounge and covered the slumbering child with it. He had become so much more settled, so much more accepting of himself since the last Reunion that he was actually happy with his life, raising a soon to be young man and watching his friends fall in love and start families around him. Tifa and Rude were only the most recent of couples; Cid and Sherra, Yuffie and some spunky young ninja she was now attached to the hip with, Vincent and Shelke (though that relationship remained between friends due to the fact that Shelke had yet to find a way to make herself age normally); he'd even attended the wedding of Rufus Shinra, of all people, to the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Costa del Sol. The idea that there might be another, incoming threat, something to harm his family and friends... it set his teeth on edge.

"'Cha doin' Cloud?" Denzel murmured, eyes sat beside him and ruffled his brown hair; it never failed to amaze him how damn fluffy it was. Zack had said the same about his hair, but Cloud really couldn't feel anything remotely alike between Denzel's kitten like waves and his own wiry spikes. Denzel cuddled up to his side and Cloud petted his hair absentmindedly, debating what his answer should be. Denzel was easier to talk to than Tifa; maybe because Cloud had a stronger relationship with the boy. He knew when to keep his mouth shut and when Cloud needed him to tell others, and was old enough that he had a right to know what was going on.

"There might be something important happening soon. I'm...not sure if its a bad thing, but that doesn't mean to say that it will be good, either." Denzel's eyes were open now; he searched Cloud's face for any sign of impending disaster. "I was thinking of going to the church; maybe Aerith will feel like sharing some answers." _If she even had any _went unsaid.

"I want to come." Was the immediate response. Once again Cloud was left to debate his answer, honestly conflicted in his response. The was no one else Cloud would rather take to see Aerith, but then again- "...It's about Sephiroth, isn't it?" Easier to talk to, yes; any less irritating with the sixth sense conclusions? No.

"If there's anything going on, then yes, its likely to involve him." _Somehow. _Denzel hummed softly, gripping Cloud's shirt. There was uncertainty there; a fear Cloud might not come back, as his parents hadn't. An understandable assumption, considering the amount of trouble that seemed to gather towards Cloud as if drawn by a magnet.

"Denzel, I've fallen hundreds of metres, fallen into the Lifestream, been stabbed, shot, blown up... stabbed, then shot, then blown up, on one occasion." He added, smiling slightly. "Some one's always needed me back, and I've always come back. Have some faith in me." When Denzel still looked slightly unnerved, Cloud added "If I'm not back by noon, you and Tifa can come after me, guns and fists blazing."

"Vincent says I'm a natural with a gun."

"Well if Vincent told you that, you must be. Remind me not to make you angry."

"Coming back late would make me very angry." The teen stated solomnly. Cloud's hand slid from the brunette's hair to his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Well then, I'd better not be late."

**88888**

Despite the constant abuse it had endured, the ruins of Midgar still retained some of its grander buildings on both the upper plate, and the lower levels. Due to some kind of unspoken rule, Shinra HQ was the site of most of the damage done after Meteor, but the slums had taken various amounts of damage as well, and Aerith's church had not been spared. The outside still appeared the same; the more recent holes in the roof and side were spared from view as you walked towards the front doors, but it was the inside that had changed the most.

Cloud figured it was some benign way for the Planet to thank him rather than chance that had made the church more adaptable to Cloud's needs. The inside was bright, less sanctimonious and the patch of flowers that had once been the revolving point of Aerith's daily life had been obliterated by the pool of water that now covered the front half of the room.

Even with the loss of the flowers, Aerith's life still imbued every aspect of the church to Cloud; just like her, it calmed him down, helped him figure out aspects of everyday life that where impossible to figure out when not staring at the hypnotic reflections of light that danced upon the water.

Usually, Cloud had the precious space all to himself, and was grateful for the chance to be left in his own thoughts. Sometimes he brought Denzel here as well, when the teen was frustrated and needed time to think and relax. Today, however, he was not alone, and it was not Denzel whose side he calmly walked towards. It appeared that the entire church had changed for this person's visit; deprived of the space the water was now dominating, flowers grew in cracks in the floor and pockets in the walls. The vivid colours contrasted with the water below, which was glowing a gentle, soothing green. Droplets of the substance flew upwards and deposited themselves in among the flowers, nourishing them.

"I hope you don't mind Cloud; I missed the flowers." Aerith smiled brightly at the walls, gently linking her arm with Cloud's. "They can get so much more sunlight now, I'm happy for them. For you as well- you have a bit more sunlight in your life too, don't you?" Cloud was drinking in the sight of the flower girl like a dug addict viewed opium. It had been for years since he'd seen her last; his memory hadn't done her justice.

"I feel I've reached a point where things are as well as they can be." He said finally. "I've never tried to attempt a normal life; I don't think I'd be capable of one. But what I do have is...precious. I care for and am responsible for a teenager, something I never even dreamed of attempting to do, but its nice, in its own way." Aerith smiled knowingly, squeezing his arm.

"Denzel certainly is good for you, isn't he?" Her smiled faded, and she sighed. "I wish the Planet had made this decision after you helped Vincent with Deepground; you have something to lose now." He tensed immediately at that, all concentration now upon the woman beside him. Had he been right in his worries? Was something inexplicable about to affect his settled, if not odd, way of life? Was Denzel safe at this current moment of time, without him?

"Denzel will be fine, Cloud. Nothing bad is going to happen just yet, as far as I can tell. The Planet just wanted to...offer something."

"...What, exactly?" He'd relaxed upon hearing Denzel was safe, but only slightly. There was still a but to this conversation, he could feel it.

"It's...difficult to explain." She started rather helplessly, stepping back and twisting her hands together. "I suppose, the reason I'm here, is because the Planet is scared of dying."

"Excuse me?" Cloud said blankly. The Planet had always been very protective of itself, but never, in the time that he had known her, had she ever stated that it could actually feel emotions. The thought seemed to make his mind shut down.

"The Planet is scared of death." Aerith stated; feeling more confident, she placed a hand on his arm once again. "It's like any creature; the will to survive and live on is a very strong aspect that links us to Gaia. But our adventures, and all the ones that have taken place since, they were huge blows to the Planet's lifespan." She paused, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "The Planet used to think of itself as somewhat endless, before all of this happened. Maybe it was. Its lost so much of its former strength, and its scared, because the end could be as close as the next five hundred years. For a being that has seen ten of millions of years go by, that's the blink of an eye, Cloud. Within the next two hundred years, it will start losing its capability to host lifeforms upon it's surface. It might not affect you, or Denzel, but its coming at an alarming rate. And if Hojo has any more accidents that can be thrown at us, it will involve you all."

"And knowing Hojo there's always something ready to kill us all." Cloud answered, a chill running down his spine. He looked over at the Planet-infested water with a frown. "But what does the Planet think I can do about it? I doubt I could find any future threats and take them down before they actually happen. And mako may be a powerful enhancer, but I'm fairly sure mystical planetary healing abilities are not included in my strengths."

"Oh, Denzel really has been good for you." Aerith giggled delightedly. "Fancy you having a sense of humor, Cloud." He smirked at her playfully and the two sat down by the water. "A lot of it is Zack's idea, actually." She continued. "I don't think he considered the fact that you're comfortable in your life now, but I agree with him that you'll accept."

"Accept what?" If it was Zack's idea, then it wouldn't be anything that would intentionally put him in danger, but the SOLDIER had been known for rushing into things with little thought to the consequences.

""The chance to relive your life and change everything that's happened in the past 30 years." Aerith said quietly. "That's what the Planet is offering. A chance to fix all the things you still regret; my death, Zack's, Sephiroth's; every life that's been affected by Shinra, one way or the other. A chance to fix all the things you want to fix, in exchange for ruining all of Hojo's plans, and stopping the Planet before it receives so much damage."

"The Planet...wants to send me back in time." Cloud's lips felt numb; his whole body did. Surely, he was still dreaming; imagining being offered the chance to redeem himself for all the horrible things that he had been unable to stop.

"Essentially, yes." Aerith acknowledged, still quiet and almost seeming upset. "You will still be the Cloud that sits beside me, and the Planet will help you as much as it can; it already has tonight, with Sephiroth. The actions you'll take when you sleep will truly affect him. Eventually, you could even join Shinra again; be physically near him, if you decide that is the path you want to take."

Cloud's mind flashed, and he could see Zack, smiling weakly as his life fled his body in a red flow from several bullet wounds peppering his body. Slowing lowering Aerith's body into the lake that would be her final resting place. Sephiroth as he had seen him on the way to Nibelhiem; distant, but still a man, still sane and hurting from the deaths of his two best friends, which Cloud had found out about much later when on friendly terms with Tseng. Though he hadn't known Angeal and Genesis, he could save them too, could he not? Sephiroth's friends and Zack's mentor.

A chance to stop Hojo. A chance to change Shinra. A chance to save all of the people who had died thanks to Hojo's projects; from Meteor and Reunion and Deepground. And a chance to save the babe whose birth he had witnessed only hours ago from succumbing to the monster Cloud had killed time and time again.

"Cloud, I need to make sure you understand." The flower girl from the slums was steadily looking away from him, from sadness, or shame, Cloud couldn't tell. "If you take this chance, the future will start to change. Everything that you do could have huge impacts on the timeline. If you change the path you've taken, and save Gaia from Hojo and Shinra, people who have been dead for over a decade will be brought back to life. Like Denzel's parents."

It felt like someone had just slapped him in the face. Changing the past, saving the people he wanted to save and doing the Planet's bidding, what about the lives that would change from this time? The people and friends who had worked so hard to be safe, and learn how to feel happiness again, who had fallen in love and started families... if he changed the events at Nibelhiem, would Tifa even journey to Midgar, and in doing so, meet Rude? What about Vincent and Shelke? Did he have the right to take away the one thing that the man who had suffered far more than him had, even in exchange for a potential son?

How could the Planet, could Zack, expect him to make this decision when it would affect every person living today?

"I need to think about this." Was all he could say. She smiled at him understandingly, and laced her fingers with his own. He realized as she did so, that he had just hesitated to save her life; in thinking about his living friends, he had potentially hurt her instead. But when he opened his mouth to apologise, she quieted him with a simple shake of her head.

"Come back and see me when you know what you want to do, okay?"

And then he was alone, save for the sound of the water lapping gently against the edges of the pool as the sun sent reflections of light dancing across its clear surface.

**88888**

It was only just past nine am when Cloud got back to the apartment. Denzel was where he'd left him; the teen had fallen asleep again during the time that he'd been gone, and Cloud leaned against the wall and stared at him thoughtfully. Cloud didn't mind that he'd gone back to sleep; he was the first person Cloud wanted to talk to, but he wasn't sure how to put his current thoughts into words. Time travel- the entire concept was absolutely mind boggling, with an alarming amount of consequences to think about. How did one say all that, without appearing completely insane?

Denzel's parent's had died when the Turks had brought a section of the plate down on Sector 7; it had been the original reason he and Tifa had decided to take the boy in, both feeling responsible for Denzel's troubles up till this point. The were thousands of orphans with similar stories to his, and many more who had lost children, spouses, family and friends. And tens of thousands of those people had been directly his fault, he realized guiltily. Barrett could deny it all he wanted, but the actions of AVALANCHE had been true to the original terrorist origins of the name.

And when trying to stop Shinra and Sephiroth from destroying the world, accidentally or otherwise, how many people had he killed then? Shinra had treated its military personnel as expendable, and at the time, Cloud and the rest had dealt with them coldly. Cloud not only had a chance to save the friends who he had been unable to save, but the lives he had taken when there had been little option in the matter. The idea had never presented itself within his mind before, but now that it had, the thought weighed heavily on his mind.

...Was there really even a choice in this? When it came down to it, even without the large personal gain that Cloud had the option of obtaining, he was still going to save millions of people. He could argue about how it wasn't truly his choice as much as he wanted, but when it came down to the basic answer, the only one he could give without entirely selfish reasons for doing so, was to say yes. The only reason he'd even stopped to think about it, was because he actually didn't want to leave. At least, not at the cost of his friends. Not at the cost of the home he had, and-

"You're leaving for good this time, aren't you?" He couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye. Denzel's expression was both resigned and devastated. Cloud was honestly impressed he hadn't started crying and protesting the moment he had seen Cloud's face. Tifa would have. And Tifa didn't see him as a father, wasn't a young boy who had already lost a father, and was about to lose another one. Even if the boy wouldn't remember him (Cloud's heart thudded painfully at the thought) for the next minute, hour, that Cloud was still in this time, had yet to change anything, Denzel would suffer. And he would suffer without voicing his pain to Tifa, without seeking solace in Marlene's arms, because if he couldn't voice his pain to Cloud, than he wouldn't to anyone else.

If only the Planet had thought of this, if only it had been thoughtless enough and cruel enough to forcefully take him away, if only so Cloud didn't have to see Denzel suffer. It was cruel, and selfish, but Cloud couldn't bear the sight of him letting someone he cared for down once again.

"I don't think I have a choice Denzel." He said heavily, and he sat down before beginning to explain everything. The offer. What he could change; the things he could stop and the people he could save. Like Denzel's parents.

The sun rose and had almost set by the time Cloud had explained everything fully. Denzel, for his part, had taken the conversation in with the maturity of one years older. He had agreed with Cloud's reasoning upon everything, brought more detail to issues Cloud had already thought of, and light to the ones he hadn't. With his help, Cloud now had a basic idea of all the things he needed to do, as well as a timeline of when they happened. It wasn't a painless conversation, by any means.

"So I won't remember this at all." Denzel questioned, looking out the window at the darkening sky.

"I doubt it." Cloud said honestly. _No false assurances,_ he told himself. Even if Denzel did look like a kicked puppy. "If I change even one thing, then everything that's happened will be different. This time," Was that even the right word to use? "Won't exist anymore." Denzel flinched and seemed to grow smaller, emotionally curling in on himself.

Gods, but he was still so young, too young to be told that in a small span of time, he might not even exist up to this point anymore. Cloud could fix the world as much as he wanted; he could re-instigate every relationship between the friends he'd had, save countless lives and defeat thousands of evils, but he would always regret this. And miss it. He and Denzel had made a life with what little effort and trust they'd had left to give, and though both knew it was selfish for him to think of staying, they had found something within the other that had brought out their strengths and shown them a common connection with another human being. It was bitter to accept.

"How soon will you leave?" Denzel ventured. Cloud wished he would look away from the window; turn around and scream at him, or cry and tell him to leave. Anything but this blankness.

"As soon as I can. If I stay any longer... its going to make it harder."

"I know." His voice trembled, and he turned to face Cloud with an expression of absolute anguish. "Dad?" And then if was Cloud's turn to struggle against a tide of emotion as the boy he had come to see as his son flung himself across the room, and into his arms.

It was the first time Denzel had called him anything other than Cloud, and Cloud cursed the Planet for that. Cursed it for ruining what he had felt was the last chance of having a family, cursed it for forcing him to live through this when soon, Denzel wouldn't even remember his name. He'd already lost his mother, now he was going to lose a son.

"I love you, and I'm proud of you." He said, hugging him tightly, not caring that Aerith was waiting, because he needed to tell Denzel this, needed to let him know before it could never be said. "I would have been proud to be your father till the end of my days."

They could have stayed like that for as long as they'd wanted to; time had little meaning when it would be obliterated by the past, but they didn't. There was nothing left to say, nothing to gather for the journey; Tsuguri was left leaning against the wall as Cloud walked out the door. Denzel stared at it from his position on the floor as he listened to the tone that told him he had managed to type in an existing number.

"Something's wrong." It wasn't a question. Denzel breathed deeply, trying to summon a calm he didn't, couldn't feel right now so he could tell Vincent the few words that really meant something right now.

"Cloud's gone."

"Stay there; I'm coming to get you." Vincent hung up and Denzel bawled, like he had when his parents had died, and Reeve's mother. Once again he had been left alone, and the fact that Vincent was on his way barely seemed to register.

It certainly didn't comfort him. Like anything could, anymore.

"I accept." There was no emotion in his voice, though he knew she could see the streaks on his dusty face, and would guess that he had barely been able to see anything as he'd made his way back. If he hadn't known the way off by heart, he'd be a piece of roadkill in the trash heaps that filled the area, no doubt.

"Cloud..."

"Don't" It was a plea, not a command, and Aerith raged inside at the Planet and Zack for assuming that they could do no wrong with their scheming. She would set them straight, and do he best to fix things, since she had gone along with it all, and though she couldn't see how she could help him, she refused to allow her friend to be broken yet again in the string of blows that had already been visited upon him.

"Just do it."

And so she did.

**88888**

_Sometimes I wonder how many times in certain fics Cloud can get sent back into the past. He never seems to get a choice in it either, which is very concerning, particularly when it comes to Cloud's mental stability. One day, some one's going to walk up to Cloud and ask for the time, and that one question will lead to the total annihilation of the human race on Gaia._

_Denzel has decided to surprise me by becoming a main character of the story in the span of a single page. What the hell, Denzel? I had ideas that were halfheartedly forming around Tifa, but I must say Denzel suits this role a lot better._

_Though he'd have to be pushed a little to really accept the role, Cloud would make a pretty epic father. I also think he's the type of person who would completely forget to eat. Blame the trauma. I will go into more detail about his and Denzel's relationship, I really will, since I've decided it is going to be a pretty important part to a lot of the fic._

_Denzel's age is estimated from "On A Way to a Smile: The Case of Denzel", in which he himself states that he's 10. The rest of the character's ages are pretty much completely fucked around for my own personal entertainment, however, so Denzel is really the only main character whose age hasn't been manipulated._

_If you actually got through all of that, then thank you. This is my first fanfic in a long while, so the thought that someone may take enough interest to read these (important-ish and likely to be repeated when someone asks a question about one of them) notes._

_Till next time._


	2. Chapter 2

**Camillian- **Thanks for the review! The further along I plan out this fic the more little oddball ideas I seem to collect; I don't think there's a chapter or specific idea planned out yet that isn't surprising and refreshing even to my own mind. This chapter should shed some light on how Cloud's younger body will accommodate for his much older mind, which is to say, very little.

**Tariray- **Yes, people do seem to have a very big affection for making their first few chapters one giant mind-fuck for our poor hero; glad that I've changed the pace and pulled in a lot of great reviewers and watchers such as yourself! The Denzel/Cloud relationship is going to be pretty key for quite a few parts of the story; it wasn't something I needed to add, but something I really, really wanted to. Another thing that most "back to the past" writers sadly leave out. Humor will be abundant soon, though with Cloud its hard to say when he is actually going to be humorous. I can't really imagine a baby Sephiroth; its actually a pretty creepy idea to me. Thank you so much!

_88888_

_You guys haven't ceased to amaze me. 20 reviews and 42 story alerts; I'm honestly touched. I blame my lateness on the fact that I aimed too ambitiously by saying the next chapter was going to be out so soon; the detailing and length I'm consistently trying to put down, coupled with ideas that just didn't feel right at this point in the story convinced me that I honestly need at least a week for each chapter, there's just too much I want to add and too big a want for quality in this for me to achieve it in any less. My sincerest apologies for leading you all on due to overconfidence in my own abilities._

_**Also, I won't be updating till at least the 26th after this. I'm in my last year of school and my grades are honestly starting to suffer from the heavenly distraction that is writing such a piece as this. Also, Supanova is next weekend; anyone else in Sydney making it there?**_

_Once again, enjoy! Trying my best not to let even one of you beautiful people down!_

_**88888**_

**We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today. -Stacia Tauscher**

In retrospect, he really shouldn't have been so surprised to immediately end up within the lower levels of the labs beneath Shinra Mansion once again. He'd half hoped that the Planet would just be done with it and let him be reborn, but either the Planet needed time to generate the effort required to achieve such a feat, or he'd be stuck with these happy not-so-dreamlike dreams till he fixed everything that needed to be fixed. The latter idea didn't fill him with enthusiasm, but if it was something that he had even the smallest control over, it would prove indefinitely useful.

It all depended on the Planet, as much as Cloud hated to admit that, and he had only himself to blame for not getting the facts of what he'd actually be doing before saying yes, though he shied away from exactly why he hadn't been in the mindset to ask with all the enthusiasm of Hojo injecting a new specimen with Jenova cells.

Time had obviously passed since the last time Cloud had been there. The place wasn't nearly as immaculate as it had once been, though the biggest hint was Sephiroth himself. He looked to be three, maybe even four years old, and a quick glance about the room confirmed that Lucrecia was already out of the picture. From the leftover scraps of information Hojo hadn't bothered to hide, the professor had disappeared one day of her own accord during Sephiroth's fourth month. Which was probably just as well; her mind had been broken enough when Cloud and company had stumbled across her- what was now in front of him would have broken her completely.

Frothing at the mouth as his brain had struggled not to shut down had been a frequent episode in Cloud's life, during his imprisonment and torture with Zack only two floors above his current location. Zack hadn't shared the problem; he'd seen more than his fair share of mako filled needles during his time as a SOLDIER, and Jenova just hadn't affected him. But Cloud had not been a SOLDIER, and Jenova…to say her cells had made an impression upon him would be an understatement. But the vague trauma that still haunted him from those horrid occasions were nowhere near the forefront of his mind as he watched Sephiroth undergo the same symptoms.

Cloud had known Hojo was a monster; he had lived through the monstrosities the man had wrought upon Cloud himself and the rest of the world, but nothing screamed monster more than watching a child who would have barely come up to Cloud's hip start seizing from the affects of having 500 milliliters of Mako slowly forced into his system with the help of a drip connected to the veins in his wrist.

He wasn't even screaming; Sephiroth was obviously so far gone by this point that it was unlikely he was even conscious. But Cloud knew, just like Hojo knew, that mako continued to burn, even when unconscious. At least when conscious, you could try to lessen the pain, but surrounded by blackness, you were helpless. It might have been the more youthful form of a man he had killed time and time again, but Cloud honestly wasn't surprised that by the time he even bothered to look around for Hojo, he was caught up in a black rage.

"Subject S has an incredibly high resistance to mako treatments." The weasel like man intoned as a female assistant wrote his observations down. "Experiment 1445, undertaken at 4 years, 15 days, has rewarded us with the insight that, even as a small child, the J cells within his body give him the same amount of mako resistance as specimens six times his age, who have been receiving mako treatments for at least half a decade…" He trailed off and glared at the quivering woman beside him, who was trying her best to both jot down Hojo's words and retain a blank expression. She wasn't doing half bad, either; she obviously cared more for her own hide than that of a small child, which meant, as long as she was capable as a scientist, she would go far.

"I estimate that within the next six months, Subject S will be ready to undergo full mako showers, and survive relatively unharmed." The sentence had a note of finality to it; a decision made on a schedule that would cripple grown men for days had just been laid upon the already suffering shoulders of a small child.

"The bag of mako is currently at half capacity, Professor. Are we leaving the experiment for the rest of the day?" This was why Cloud hated most scientists in general; the casual way they could remark about human suffering, as if speaking about the weather, put them one rung below Hojo in inhumane monstrosities.

"No, I don't think we will." Hojo answered, smiling. The man was absolutely insane, but he would never have come so far and been such a threat to life if that insanity had not been tempered with genius. He knew exactly how far he could push the body, and how to push past its limits whilst still keeping his patients alive; Cloud had learnt that firsthand.

But it wasn't something Cloud was willing to let anyone else- never mind a child- experience whilst he could do anything about it. Sephiroth's body was beginning a series of seizures which would eventually lead to various organs failing, and as he jerked in his place on the table Cloud calmly walked up and pulled the tubing out of the bag of mako, before throwing it at Hojo with vicious precision.

The resounding smack and curses were intensely satisfying, and Cloud felt no guilt when the female assistant dropped to her knees with a pained scream, mako from the tear in the bag squirting out and onto her face. She clutched her eyes and continued to wail as Cloud wished her a happy time in the Shinra Mansion, for there was no possibility of her ever seeing the light of day outside the building again. The room full of coffins came decidedly to mind. The wooden clipboard she had dropped proved to be yet another valuable weapon; Cloud picked it up and brought it down on Hojo's face as hard as possible. The wood snapped in tandem with the scientist's glasses, and the broken metal caused a gash underneath the man's left eye.

A Turk burst into the room at that moment; taking in the scene and offering Hojo a handkerchief promptly. Hojo pushed it away with an impatient swipe of his hand, brushing greasy hair away from his face and holding up what remained of his glasses awkwardly.

"My current analysis leads me to believe that the boy's mind is lashing out in panic; protecting his body from further harm. Either that, or she..." He trailed off abruptly, realizing that he wasn't alone in the room and that the young Turk was staring at him in bewilderment. Snarling, he stepped towards Sephiroth, only to jump back hastily when a beaker flew off the bench closest to him and shattered against the spot he had only just vacated. "Get that woman outside and take her to your superior; he'll know what to do with her." Hojo glared at Sephiroth, then turned to leave the room. "Lock down this room and continue to observe the specimen through security surveillance; find me immediately when he regains consciousness. I will know what happened here, one way or another."

"Not if I can help it." Cloud hissed at his retreating form, though the monster remained unperturbed. The Turk, however, jumped and looked about wildly; with a shudder, he crossed the room quickly and hefted the whimpering victim of Cloud's rage upon one shoulder.

"This place is fucking haunted." He muttered, refusing to look about him as he left the room as quickly as he'd entered. The door closed, and the audible click of a lock was heard moments later.

"What the hell?" Cloud breathed in quickly growing irritation. He paced the floor, trying to understand why someone had obviously sensed him in some way, before giving up and resorting to shouting at the ceiling. "If you wanted to be helpful Zack, you could let me strangle the bastard and be done with it!"

A whimper made him glance at the table. Sephiroth was no longer in the midst of potential body failure; aside from a few uncontrollable twitches, his body appeared to be restoring itself to normal just fine, now that mako wasn't being leaked into it at a slow but constant rate. The whimper was an indication that, though unconscious, Sephiroth was feeling the pain, which at that point would be enough to make grown men beg for death in their mind. All sense of anger washed out of him; in fact, Cloud felt almost numb as he approached the table and, on a whim, seated himself on its edge and took Sephiroth's tiny hand in his own. He tried to be reassuring in his contact as he pulled the needle that had been feeding Sephiroth's blood the Planet's life source out of the thin wrist, and tried very hard not to think about what number Hojo had stated so casually when commenting on the experiment; compare it to the 1475 days Sephiroth had actually been alive... he wanted to break something at the minuscule probability that lay behind the meaning of the number.

The only other thing to consider was how...small Sephiroth seemed at this age. Cloud's hand dwarfed the four year olds'; he barely resembled the man he would become. Especially when his hair was barely touching his neck. He had known that at one point, Sephiroth would have been an innocent, but it was different to think something and then gain the chance to see it firsthand. Baffling, really.

"Tseng was the only person who never pressed me to hate you, you know." Cloud said dazedly, not really even thinking of what he was saying. He doubted it really mattered; in time, he intended to share all with Sephiroth, leaving it up to him to decide whether to believe Cloud or not. Starting now, when he was four and not conscious to hear it seemed like a good idea. "He was the only one left who really knew you from your days as the General of SOLDIER, as the man you had been before Jenova completely destroyed you. For everyone else, you're just the person who'd ruined so many lives, including their own, but Tseng never disagreed with me when I told him that I didn't believe I had ever really fought you.

"If I'd lived the same life you had up till that week, I think I would have given up hope too. Your mother was the only lie that had ever brought you any comfort; Hojo set you up for that, but maybe you wouldn't have given up if you'd had someone there for you who you thought could actually understand, someone connected to you. Like Genesis and Angeal; Tseng told me you'd only recently lost them before the Nibelheim mission was charted."

In fact, Tseng had shed much light on the man Sephiroth had been. As the leader of the Turks, he'd been one of the few who had seen the General on a daily basis, if only for business. He had told Cloud more than anyone else living was able to; that Sephiroth had been a man with both likes and dislikes (_"Couldn't stand coffee; it kept him up for days, so he always opted for tea instead"_) worries and concerns (_"Lazard may have been SOLDIER's director, but I doubt he knew half as much about its members as Sephiroth tried to"_), and one who had been entirely capable of caring for another being; more than one, in Tseng's opinion (_"Things would have been easier on Shinra and Zack if Sephiroth had gone after Genesis and Angeal, but he blatantly refused; Zack Fair was the only person Sephiroth felt had any hope of bringing them both back alive"_). They were the smaller details that Cloud had needed to hear; confirmation that the only thing he had thought and killed several times over was the shell of a person, controlled by an alien beast from the sky.

Talking to Tseng had been routine for months to get that point across, Cloud recalled. For both of them, the other was the only person they could speak to and justify that Sephiroth had been a man (a business partner and almost friend, a childhood hero), and not the monster the world perceived him to be. Cloud felt that it had been something they had both needed.

And it was something Sephiroth needed as well. Humans had doubts, and Sephiroth's had been readily fueled by Genesis and Angeal's own interpretations of themselves, the only people at the time who had shared Jenova's genetic makeup. Sephiroth had bowed to Jenova's will because he had been willing to believe his own doubts in his humanity, but this time, Cloud would be there to diffuse those doubts again, and again. Right now, however, what Sephiroth needed was comfort on a basic level, and Cloud couldn't bring himself to consider the physical comfort a hug may provide. It was too big a step for him, right now.

The only other concept Cloud had to go off was Tifa's stories, told only when Denzel or Marlene had sought her out in the middle of the night after a far too realistic nightmare of the past. Cloud had always felt so useless, standing by the doorway as Tifa had gathered whichever child needed comfort that night into her arms and proceeded to tell them various silly instances from AVALANCHES day to day life whilst travelling to save the world, but maybe trying to provide that same comfort would be less awkward than listening in on it.

"Our journey had barely begun when we first came to stay at the Gold Saucer. Barrett and Aerith were the only two truly eager to be there; all Tifa and I could think of was that we'd soon be in the presence of hot water and places to sleep that didn't consist of sleeping bags on the hard ground..." Softly, he continued to tell the tale of how he and Aerith had stumbled across Cait Sith, and how the robotic pest had irritated Cloud and delighted Aerith, eventually joining their party (he tactfully left out the fact that Cait Sith had really been controlled by Reeve Tuesti, who had spied on them through the doll and given away their upcoming plans to Shinra. Now wasn't really the time for that).

Somewhere throughout the story, he had noted Sephiroth's cat-like gaze upon him, sizing up the stranger whose intentions were not to assess, dissect, or experiment on the terribly vulnerable child, but to comfort. The pain had caused him to quickly drop back off to sleep, however, and Cloud noticed calmly that he seemed to be fading out; the amount of visibility he had was fading, and he could no longer feel Sephiroth's hand in his own.

Apparently, it was time to move on to the next aspect of Cloud's newly reconstructed existence.

**88888**

Sephiroth may not have already noticed that his strangely gentle companion was gone, but Cloud was wishing he'd been allowed to stay behind and throw some more things at Hojo. There were some things in life the human mind wasn't made to experience, and Cloud was fairly sure he'd been through most of them now.

There was a reason, and a damn good reason, people didn't remember being born. That reason was the fact that the entire process was fucking traumatic. His body was currently wailing loudly, a useless lump of flesh in his mother's arms, and a disgruntled Cloud reasoned that he would probably have to put up with it being this way for quite a while before he gained any amount of control over what his body did, and didn't, do. Oh, were the next two years going to be fun.

He'd also never realized how barbaric Nibelheim's traditions were. The mako reactor and Shinra's influence had been around for several years at the youngest age Cloud could remember from, and by that time, most of Nibelheim's more extreme practices had been lost. Not so when Cloud was actually born. Cloud's mother had been left inside her house alone for the duration of his birth; it was considered to be one of the most intimate processes to witness a child being born, and therefore, completely left for the mother alone to witness in privacy.

It had been considered one of Nibelheim's most sacred practices, and it probably would have been retained till the total destruction of the village if not for the fact that Tifa's mother- the mayor's spouse, had died due to just this tradition. She had bled out before anyone had thought to go check on her, to weak to help herself. And so it was proven that idiotic rituals died out quickly when they negatively affected someone in a position of power.

Thankfully, the birth was over and most of the town had been through to coo at the "lil' tyke's tufty blonde hair" and state various mundane things such as"Those big blues'll never change; he's gonna be a looker, just like his momma", and now Cloud was left in the care of his mother, and relative peace. Peace to stew over his utter uselessness for the next ten years.

Or would have been, if his father wasn't present.

"Honey" his mother called him, and that was fine by Cloud, because as far as he was concerned the man didn't deserve a name. After all the men who had cried on Cloud's shoulder after losing a child, and actually experiencing some semblance of parenthood himself, he had nothing for disdain for the foreign man who had come to Nibelheim to work on the reactor's construction, and left a wife and son behind when no more work was to be found. As far as Cloud knew, he had a step mother somewhere, and various step brothers and sisters that the man's wife knew very little about.

So the man was trying half-heartedly to be the affectionate father now;let him try and be attentive. It would be worth the abject humiliation of the act to see his father's face dripping with piss after he tried to change his diaper.

"My little storm Cloud, hmm? His mother crooned at him, bouncing her arms gently. "You're going to be a little spitfire when you grow up, aren't you love?" Oh, but the baby talk was annoying already. Cloud couldn't wait to learn how to talk; he wondered if his first words would be "shut up mom", or "fuck off dad".

"You're really going to name him Cloud? His father asked with a frown. _Like you give two shits, bastard! _"Why not Sol, or Sora; something to do with bright skies?"

"He May look like a little burst of sunshine, but underneath all that is a wild storm waiting to happen." She answered absentmindedly, tapping Cloud's nose. "The world won't know what hit it when you get out there love; you're going to spin it on it's head. No one's ever going to tame that spirit, but for now, I just get to enjoy you." His father seemed to understand that his presence was being ignored; he straightened and the frown grew till it caused creases across his not quite handsome face.

"Good luck with that." He muttered, and to Cloud's great delight, he left the room.

"That's right; go off for a drink, you rat." His mother pulled a face at the door, then started making softer, more comical expressions at her child. "You don't like him either, do you darling? He's good looking for his age though, and he said both his parents had blue eyes too; I always wanted you to have blue eyes, so its worth having him around for just a little bit longer..." Cloud stared at his mother, who was doing a fairly good impression of a sadistic, manipulative witch at that moment. _I don't believe it; my mother was a sly, insensitive cow! _He couldn't help but be impressed.

When Cloud was younger, and his mother had still been alive, he had asked about his father several times, hoping for an answer as to why he wasn't here with them. The only answer he had ever received was "he left" and a strained smile. He had always assumed that this had been because when the man had left, he had broken her mother's heart; listening to her now, he had to wonder if it was more due to a sense of guilt, giving birth to a son with a man she had never wanted around, depriving Cloud of a father.

It was still true that his father didn't want him; actions spoke louder than words, and the foreigner seemed less than excited about his newly born child, but suddenly, there was much more to the story than just what he'd considered there to be. And maybe his mother had felt the need to protect him from that.

"You'd think I'd get to enjoy watching you grow up before you turned into an old soul, but look at you." She was falling asleep; Cloud could hear it in the steady softening of his mother's voice. Carefully, she placed Cloud in the bed beside her; what kind of mother worried about rolling onto their child, really, Cloud wondered dryly. ""I'm not going to enjoy you being a child for long, am I love? You'll be grown up and belong to someone else before I know it." She stared at him a while longer, eyelids slowly dragging down from the exhaustion she must be experiencing. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a father, Cloud." And with that said, she was asleep.

_I never minded, mom. _He couldn't speak it aloud, but he thought it. He wanted to reach out and just touch her, but his body wasn't developed enough to respond. He couldn't speak, couldn't touch, and his eyesight was fuzzy and non-distinct past his mother's face; he hadn't expected that one. He knew all these things would develop in time, but the span of time rankled deeply. _One little baby step at a time, huh? _Well if there was one thing his mother didn't have to worry about, it was him sleeping. Damn him if Cloud wasn't going to be the least bothersome newborn when it came to sleep.

...Sweet Shiva, was two years a long time. Staring at Sephiroth from his position against the wall, Cloud tried to think more about his current position, and less about his mother sleeping beside his body back home. He was happy enough that the four year old was sleeping as well; either carried to this room after he had woken or taken here after even more testing, Cloud didn't really want to know. But it gave Cloud a chance to think, which he wouldn't get much time for, he assumed, between caring for Sephiroth and trying not to burst into tears whenever his mind got frustrated at his weak body.

There was also a small undercurrent of fear in Cloud's mind that he may enjoy being a child far too much, and forget the purpose to which he had been given this chance in favor of enjoying the childhood he had mostly forgotten. Many adults thought fondly of their younger, simpler days, and Cloud was no different. He also knew the dangers that came with losing oneself to something that you really weren't, and to allow himself to be a real child was...tempting. Very much so.

Oh, but he'd screwed up majorly, in the future. He'd never been a man to be overwhelmed by emotion- there had never been enough time- but the last period of peace, along with Denzel's influence had made him man enough to make a mistake, a fact that wouldn't have bothered him so much if not for the point that said mistake had cost him vital information, information that would have made his purpose quite clear.

He had no idea how the Planet expected him to live and work in both his current states of being. Had he merely been brought back as a child, it would have been forward enough; fix what is humanly possible to rectify. He would have fully concentrated his efforts on rearing himself into being as strong as he could without mako injections, and enlisting Vincent's help would have been simple; plans that needed to be undertaken whilst he grew would still be attended to.

This would, however, have left Sephiroth in Hojo's less than tender cares for at least 20 years before Cloud could have much interaction with him, if any at all. Still, he needed to join Shinra with or without Sephiroth in the picture, and once in a position to do so, would have helped the man in any way possible.

But this...state of being he seemed to come into whilst asleep or otherwise disconnected from his body spoke volumes in a very loud, Zack-ish manner. It stated, quite bluntly, that Sephiroth had to be saved now, or lost in the future. And oh, how seamlessly Zack had set it all up, limiting Cloud to touching non-living organisms so that Cloud wouldn't strangle Hojo from the get go. It had given Cloud the time to see that killing Hojo before the right time would be disastrous; Sephiroth would be the first to be blamed for the professor's death being his number one experiment, and likely put to death for Cloud's impulsive action.

He couldn't just take Sephiroth away, either. The Planet obviously had doubts (as did he) that if allowed to take the child away from here Cloud would continue to care for much else besides his new charge, eventually allowing the world to end up just as fucked as it had been after. Hence the reason for a limit on when he could be around to change things, and not just a ghost bouncing round the labs.

The worst, the absolute worst message that Cloud got from all this was the clear option that just killing Sephiroth would save him a lot of time, effort, and future agony. Sephiroth didn't need to be alive for the world to change; in fact, there was no question that his death would instantly save thousands. This second body, the chance to make sure Sephiroth could live as his own man and not a puppet of Hojo and Jenova, was a side quest, an optional bonus with a huge amount of risk and the option of failing everything involved.

...Damn him if Cloud could even consider murdering Sephiroth as a valid option. It was painfully rational that he should do so; the sleeping child across the room would grow into a killing machine that had already shown the damage it could cause when controlled by the wrong hands, and there was a large sense of doubt in Cloud that he would really be able to help him at all, but Sephiroth deserved as much of a chance to live as the rest of the world did. It would be an effort that would involve constant headaches and mountains of stress, but if he could avoid making any more mistakes, then Cloud thought that he might just be able to pull it off. And if he couldn't, then Cloud would have to bring himself to the conclusion that the rest of the world meant more than a single person, no matter how they had affected Cloud's previous life, and act accordingly. The thought was not an enticing one.

The benefits of potentially having Sephiroth on his side as not just a child to take care of, but as an ally, were huge as well. There would be no easier way to change Shinra than to have Sephiroth's aid in enforcing those changes, no greater ally to change the future before it could happen. And if Sephiroth could be saved, then he would know the consequences of what could happen if Hojo was left unchecked. Cloud could no sooner bring himself to keep his life secret from this man than he could kill him. For Sephiroth to trust him, and believe in him, there needed to be no suspicions of doubt, no vague understanding that Cloud was not what he seemed. If Cloud could offer Sephiroth his life, then the least that Sephiroth could do for him was to be a confident.

And Cloud needed that. To think he could do this all on his own, keep this all to himself, was the simplest way to crack under the pressure, and become as insane and mindless as Sephiroth had once been. And never would be again. The world had plenty of threats to its livelihood and inhabitants without adding its caretaker to the list, and to avoid becoming one of several calamities that could befall the world, he needed to look logically at what he needed, despite his reluctance. If Sephiroth and Vincent were the only two who could be told, then they were the two that Cloud would trust to maintain his sanity.

"...Hel's fire, who am I kidding?" Cloud laughed, rubbing his forehead. "My entire life is going to be hell."

**88888**

Indeed, the next two years were as intensely frustrating as Cloud had thought. The human body developed as it grew, he understood that, but just the development undertaken within the first three months was enough to twist his perspective and appreciate the complexity of the human being.

His first few months consisted of constant, but brief, periods of sleep. Every two hours he succumbed to slumber in his crib, or beside his mother in her own bed, but within 40 minutes he was up and in need of food, changing, or just attention. The processes his body was undertaking were amazing and overwhelming; his interior consistently felt uncomfortable and alien as it learnt and adapted to how it was supposed to work, and the outside world was indeed, a scary thing to a baby.

Colours came slowly to him. At first he had feared that the vague, shadowy blurs with few bursts of light meant that he had insufficiently developed within the womb, and was almost blind because of it. Maybe even a trade-off with the Planet; his sight for the second chance and maintaining his two states of being. Slowly, however, the full tones of the world were revealed, and as his eyes tracked his mother's finger wiggling in front of his nose suspiciously, he figured it must just be a baby thing.

What made him happiest in this short space of time was learning small things on controlling his body. Like the first time he had grasped a toy in his hands and shook it, or holding his head up to survey the world around him, kept decidedly small as his mother seemed disinclined to chance taking him out of the house just yet. At six weeks, he learned to smile, and his mother fluttered around him joyously for hours just to see the gumless grin he sent to her as many times as he could.

"Oh love, you're a little genius, you are!" She told him, scribbling furiously into a book as she recorded all these small achievements as they happened. And yes, Cloud could admit that he was as pleased as her, and a damn sight less frightened when he was able to see things in a steadily more proper light, but he still had no control on how long it was taking for his body to develop and allow him some sense of control. It was irritating to the extreme, to which his body would reply with more wailing of discontent.

There was certainly a large amount of instances to be embarrassed about too. He couldn't blame himself for crying every time his nappy was changed and his bum wiped, or the many instances when his little body couldn't keep all the milk he had just drank down; it was just so mortifying to have to be cleaned up after in such a way that Cloud wanted to curl into a ball and let the walls eat him several times a day. The reminder of the many mako induced comas that he had been in, and the thought that Tifa, that **Zack **had looked after him in such a way had made him wail for an hour straight before he fell into an exhausted sleep.

As emotionally exhausting as his first three months of life were, in comparison to the hells that Cloud did and did not save Sephiroth from, his worries were nothing. He'd promised himself that he would only do so much to help the man, since he still needed him to develop into the skilled fighter with whom Hojo had convinced Shinra to establish the SOLDIER programme, but as many times as he stopped Hojo from slicing the boy open to test his healing capabilities, or destroyed several rooms of the laboratory when the Professor decided it was time to introduce more Jenova cells to the 'specimen's' system, there were plenty of instances when Cloud appeared just in time to watch the final stages of cleaning various liquids off of nasty looking instruments.

He had yet to see Sephiroth conscious, as well. It was more worrisome to Cloud than the various goings of Hojo, since it had a major effect on Cloud's plans. He needed to be able to speak to Sephiroth, not just break a few things to save the boy from some pain or watch him dully for half an hour when nothing else was going on. He hoped that it was due to Hojo's enthusiasm rather than the Planet's interference that he had yet to see Sephiroth in motion, but there was, unfortunately, very little he could do other than debate the issue with himself. He kept it out of mind as much as possible, and did what little he could aside from that.

He continued to grow as time passed; by 12 months he was crawling and standing by himself, a considerable feat for his age. He could wrap his mouth around simple words, and the gorgeous smile he received from his mother when he said "mommy" for the first time made him ache to see and hold his own child. He found himself thinking about what it would have been like to watch Denzel grow from a small infant, rather than develop from a child to a teenager, and wished that he'd had more time, that he had allowed himself to grow attached sooner, so that he could have experienced a little bit more of what his mother seemed to adore so much.

It was just another issue Cloud had to put out of his mind; he wasn't ready to face up to the fact that if all went well, Denzel would never know him at all.

Sometime during his first year, his father skipped out of town. He wasn't exactly sure when, since the man had only seen him a handful of times, but he had vaguely remembered his mother being a bit more maliciously happy a few months before. He rethought the idea that he may have half siblings younger than himself. Knowing his mother, the man had not left Nibelheim unscathed. He approved wholeheartedly.

As his second birthday passed him by with little fuss, now a well developed toddler capable of walking steadily and running with mild coordination (and more importantly, go to the toilet by himself), he found himself feeling that something was... wrong with the current picture. That he had forgotten something in particular that, if he could actually recall what it was exactly, would cause considerable alarm. But it wasn't until his 833rd day alive that the issue niggling at the back of his mind exploded loudly in his face.

And it came in the form of Mrs Lockhart.

The same woman, who by this time, should have been dead. And why wasn't she? Had Tifa never been born because of some uncontrollable variation in the timeline? Cloud didn't understand, and stayed by the two women, pretending to play with some blocks, in the hope that he would soon find out exactly what was occurring.

"So, what is this little surprise you have in store, hmm?" His mother giggled like a school girl, appearing years younger in the company of her obviously close friend. Tifa's mother looked a lot like her daughter did in her late twenties; not a day over twenty with a natural beauty and a bust that had caught many a man's eye. She was practically glowing; a feverish excitement about her eyes that had Cloud suspecting, with building dread, exactly what the "little surprise" was.

"I'm pregnant." _Oh yes, didn't see that one coming. _He watched rather numbly as his mother practically tackled her friend. This was...not good. If Tifa had only been recently conceived, then that meant-

"Oh I can't wait! Little Cloud will be like a big brother! He'll be almost three by then; still young enough for them to be playmates."

The Planet had made his birth two years earlier than before.

Which meant he was now on par in age with a certain Zack Fair.

**88888**

_Um... dun dun duuuun? Once again, its another chapter just basically trying to explain the story enough for it to get moving, but it has a few shocks here and there that I think you guys will like._

_I checked Cloud and Tifa's ages to make sure, and Cloud is originally only a year older than the busty female. A lot of the information I've used for Cloud's development is also researched, such as the fact that newborn babies are colourblind for the first several weeks of their life. Its information like that which keeps researching interesting, don't you think?_

_Just as a last little note, I'd really like to recommend __**fruor's one-shot Hourglass **__if you're looking for something in the "Cloud goes back in time cliche" that's quite a bit shocking, and creates a really great idea that I honestly love and wish I could write as a multi chapter piece. Truly, the concept just has so many ideas that go with it and could really even create an epic saga of pieces, all spanning 20+ chapters each. I take my hat off to this author, and sweat a little hoping that you lovely reviewers don't think I'm being egotistical in recommending it._

_Till next time; hopefully not too far away for all of you._


End file.
